The Weight of My Own Grave
by indiechic01
Summary: What if I told you...that I loved you?" "Then I would say you just let your pride get the best of you" Ron/OC CHAPTER 3 IS UP W/ A.N.! PLEASE R
1. Chapter 1

**Do not own anyone besides Maribelle Black. Enjoy//Please Review!**

She stood there staring out the window as the rain came down, pounding against the pane. She felt as she often did living in this house with what seemed like three other complete strangers.

Hopeless, lost…dying for a way to get out.

The only thing that kept her going were her books, her_ Muggle_ books. Something her "roommates" were never fond of.

Sighing at the thought of the rain never letting up, she curled up on her queen-sized bed and grabbed the first book off a teetering stack on her night stand.

Hearing the spine of the book crack as she opened up to the bookmarked page sent a tingle of satisfaction down her spine. Picking up where she left off, she quietly mouthed the words to herself as she read The Great Gatsby. It was quickly becoming one of her favorites, right alongside Catcher In The Rye and One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. The way Muggles could manipulate words into these beautiful lines bursting with imagination and information, it mesmerized her day in and out. Placing the book to her nose, she inhaled deeply, breathing in the musty scent of the weathered paperback.

"I see you are reading another one of those books again. From where did you lift this one?"

"If you must know, I actually paid for this one as well at the entire stack you see before you."

Narcissa Malfoy scoffed at her niece before settling on the bed beside her.

"I only kid with you my dear, I know you are honest as the moon is full."

"Aunty, I must warn you, the moon is only full once a month" her niece giggled.

The older woman scoffed again and playfully squeezed the younger woman's shoulders.

"You know what I mean. Not tell me, what is this one about?"

Without hesitation, Maribelle Black launched into a full synopsis of the novel, not leaving one detail left out. Mrs. Malfoy looked on in amusement at the site of her niece's flailing arms and the occasional influx in her voice as she begin to act out each character.

It was times like these where Maribelle wondered if her Aunt Cissy was , or could be, a Muggle sympathizer.

" This sounds like a very interesting book. I am surprised at the amount of detail each character has Maribelle. You would think that with the lack of personality and wit that Muggles suffer from, they can all still produce literature of substance…from time to time."

Maribelle sighed in defeat, but refused to start up another debate about Muggles.

"Will dinner be ready soon Aunty?"

"Any moment now. Why don't you freshen yourself up and go ahead downstairs. I'm sure Draco and Lucius will join you momentarily."

Maribelle nodded her compliance as she placed the book back on top of the heap. Watching her aunt leave the room, she sat down in front of her vanity mirror and attempted to comb the waterfall curls she had inherited from her mother. After a few mintues of tugging and letting a few cuss words slip from her mouth, she threw the comb down in defiance.

There was one thing Maribelle loved more than her books, and it was the inability to tame those wild, roaming curls of hers. She liked to think it was a physical extension of herself. No matter how many times the Malfoys try to stifle her beliefs in Muggle equality, she would sprang back with a concrete defense.

Born Free, just like her hair. Just like her mother.

Satisifed with her small pep talk, Maribelle left her room and descended the stairs to join everyone for dinner. Walking into the dining room she was shocked to see her other aunt, the devil herself, Bellatrix Lestrange whispering to Draco with a hushed urgency. The moment she stepped into the room, both pairs of eyes were on her, as she took the seat across from Draco.

"My my, Maribelle my sweet, you have grown" hissed Bellatrix.

"I suppose. You still look as frightening and disshelved as ever Aunty. Tell me, when are you do back to Azkaban again? I'm sure you must be missing that cozy cell of yours."

A silence fell over the table, heavier than the fog that crept along the ground outside. Bellatrix stared her down with a ferocity Maribelle had only seen in the crevices of her nightmares. However, she refused to break eye contact for she stood by every word she said.

A moment later, Lucius Malfoy entered the room, almost knocked to his feet by the tension in the air.

"Is something the matter?" he all but whispered.

"Nothing at all Lucius my darling," Bellatrix grinned, eyes never leaving Maribelle, "Our lovely niece here was just making a joke from what it seems".

"I never knew you were one for humor Maribelle, though your belief that we are all equals to Muggles is quite laughable. Draco can you pass your mother the sugar please?" Lucius said, with a hurried tone.

Before Maribelle's rebuttal could leave her lips, she felt a small tender hand on her knee. Narcissa glanced at her briefly, giving her a pleading look. Maribelle gave her aunt a reassuring smile and simply brushed the comment off.

However Bellatrix was now intrigued and for the rest of dinner she chose to spout off comments of the demise of the Muggle population and the return of the Dark Lord through that foul mouth she was cursed with.

Maribelle tried her best to oblige her Aunt's rules but by dessert she was ready to cast an Incarcerous spell upon her followed by a simple Incendio charm.

"You know, we can all learn a lot from Muggles if we tried, Aunt Bellatrix" strained Maribelle. It was killing her to be this nice.

"Honestly Maribelle, don't speak such nonsense. I swear as the days grow long, you grow more and more like Sirius.."

"He was a great man…"

"A foolish man is more like it. To be honest he got exactly what he deser..."

Maribelle slammed down her fists on the dining room table, anger seeping off her in waves.

"DONT finish that statement! It is ludicrous how all of you think you are so much better than someone of Muggle decent when you are just like them! Their racism is the equivalent to your prejudice against them. Do not say you are above them when you practice the same bigotry! I am done living in this house of hate. I'm packing my things and I'm leaving...tonight!"

Narcissa instantly stood up at the thought but was sternly commanded to sit down by her pale-haired husband.

"How dare you." he whispered, glaring at his niece through silted eyes.

"How dare you speak to us in that manner after we took you in! You had no where else to go, you would be in the custody of the government had it not been for your mother PLEADING with us to give you a proper life after she passed on. And this is how you repay us? You foul mouthed harlot!"

"I beg to differ sir, I would have happily taken residence with any other family but yours! My mother had written her will years before she died! She never revised it because not in a million years did she think her own blood would be tainted with influence from the Dark Arts! I'm doing you all a favor. Continue on with your ignorance, I want no part of it."

Maribelle ran from the dining room and up the stairs, shutting her door and locking it. She grabbed a travel size floral print tote from the closet and threw it on her bed. Looking around frantically, she grabbed the books from her night stand and threw them inside. She followed them with all the clothes and shoes in her closet, her father's phonograph, a framed picture of her parents, an old brown teddy bear she had since she was a baby and the ivory comb/brush set Narcissa had given to her for her 17th birthday. She grabbed her wand and with a simple flick of the wrist, it closed itself shut and the clasp locked itself. She threw it over her shoulder, turned on her heels and was about to leave when Narcissa appeared in her doorway. Tears clouded her eyes as she reached out with trembling hands to embrace her niece.

"Please, don't go. You are the only reminder I have of my late sister, Maribelle."

As it pained her to hear those words coming from the one person she trusted in this world, it was still a selfish request.

"I can't Aunty. You are bound to your husband, and as long as he is living under this roof I cannot continue to share quarters with him. I'm sorry."

"Where will you go? I know he can be a bit difficult from ti..."

She abruptly placed a small kiss on Narcissa's forehead and gave her a small reassuring smile.

"I'll send an owl as soon as I can. I love you."

She descended those steps for the last time, refusing to look around for fear something would stop her in her tracks. She reached the front door and was about to step outside when she heard a voice.

"Good luck." whispered Bellatrix in a conniving tone.

"You can go to hell."


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope you all enjoy! Please Review! It would mean so much to me if I had some feedback :)**

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Professor McGonagall told me you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes yes, do come in Mr. Weasley."

Dumbledore watched a visibly shaken Ron take a seat across from him as he pushed aside a few OWLs he had just received.

"Would you like a lemondrop?" Dumbledore asked, grabbing the small golden container that was filled to the brim with the deliciously tart candies.

"No thank you sir."

"You sure? They are quite delightful."

"No sir, I actually just came from breakfast."

Dumbledore gave him a comforting smile while placing the container back on his desk.

There were a few minutes of silence as Dumbledore begin shuffling through more papers, muttering every so often. Ron shifted in his seat, the weight of the silence suffocating him. Another shift in his seat caused his chair to make an unpleasant squeak which seemed to catch the Headmaster's attention. He popped another lemondrop in his mouth and then abruptly stood up from his chair. Ron flinched as the chair made an ear splinting screech as it scraped across the marble floor. A thin film of sweat coated the ginger haired boy's face as he impatiently waited to discover the meaning of his summons.

"Mr Weasley," Dumbledore begin as he paced back and forth behind him, " Can you recall the events that took place just a few days ago?"

"Y…yes sir I can."

"Do you mind recalling them now? I need to know every detail, regardless of how trivial you make think it be."

Ron straightened up in his chair and cleared his throat.

"Well sir.."

(A Few Days Prior)

"Ron, are you alright? Hello…Ron?"

"Mate, are you okay?"

The ginger head teen slowly looked up at two worrisome pairs of eyes.

" I'm fine."

"You hardly ate anything at breakfast," Hermoine pressed, "and you've barely touched your dinner. Harry, I think we should take him down to Madame Pomfrey's have hi…"

"I said I'm fine 'moine."

"If this is about earlier when I wouldn't let you copy my Potions homework…"

"That's not it all. I'm 'aving a bit of an off day."

Harry and Hermoine shared another concerned look. This was unlike Ron, to be moping about. He was usually ten thousand times more upbeat with a twinkle in his eye and a hop in his step. He could make anyone having a bad day double over in laughing pains just by tell a simple, albeit cheesy, joke. Now here he was, pushing his food around with his fork and looking simply miserable.

"If you to don't mind, I think I'll head back to the Common Room. I just want to turn in early."

Harry and Hermoine watched their friend leave the Great Hall without protest.

"Maybe you should go talk to him Harry," Hermoine whispered, "It could be about the Quidditch try outs coming up. He could be nervous or something…"

"I'll see what I can get out of him."

Harry quickly downed his pumpkin juice and grabbed a lone buttered roll before dashing off to catch up with the sulking Weasley.

He begin walking in the direction of the Gryffindor common room when he spotted Ron sitting on an open window sill, overlooking the enclosed lawn where they often hung out on breaks. He approached Ron cautiously even though he was sure Ron hadn't noticed him.

"Hey mate…"

Ron continued to space out and Harry begin to wonder if Ron had even heard him.

"Would you like a roll? I know these are your favorites, you know the one with the brown sugar…"

"Harry…"

"…and cinnamon"

"Harry."

"and with the orange peel shavings on them. I don't really know what they are used for…maybe zest…"

"HARRY!"

A bewildered Potter looked up stunned at Ron, who resumed staring absentmindley.

"What is with you today Ron? You…you mope around all day, barely spoke a word to either me or Hermoine and…and then I try and talk to you…and you just treat me like any old wanker!"

Ron sighed and turned so now he was facing Harry.

"I'm sorry mate…it's just that I've been having reservations about this school year."

"Is it about Quidditch tryouts coming up?"

They begin strolling around the halls of Hogwarts as Ron begin to open up to the Boy Who Lived.

"It's not only that but…I just feel like I'm hiding in your shadow."

Harry stopped dead inn his tracks, caught off guard.

"Ron! You are my best mate! We have done everything together. How can you say that?"

Ron just stayed silent, brushing past Harry to continue down the hall.

"Ron! Don't walk away from me! Where is all this coming from?"

Ron stopped and turned around to face a still stunned Harry Potter.

"We only have one more school year left…it all sort of just hit me today. I look back and there is nothing I've really done to be remembered here besides being "Harry Potter's best friend aka The Forgettable Git"."

"Ron, listen to me. You are probably one of the best mate's anyone could ever ask for…." Ron scoffed and tried to turn away but Harry stepped in his way.

"I'm being serious! You have been there for me through everything, you've helped me through the worst of times. The only thing you should be concerned with is being the best person you can be, not any other rubbish."

It took a moment for Ron to mull over Harry's words. Was he being sincere? Or was he just spewing out whatever Ron wanted to hear? It was all too much to think about and eventually it occurred to Ron that that was his problem. He thinks too much, something he thought he would never tell himself.

"Fuck, you're right Harry. I'm being a bit of a silly git aren't I?"

"Damn right you are. Now, whatdya say we go to Hagrid's for a bit? Maybe he can brew us up some butterbeers and we can forget all this for now?"

Ron nodded his agreement and the two friends headed towards the entrance of the castle.

The moon was already peaking out from behind a few evening clouds, casting a silvery glow over everything before them. They walked in silence a few feet, carefree smiles plastered on their faces. Yet, those boyish smirks would soon be wiped from their faces.

"Harry? What is that…over there?"

Ron stopped dead in his tracks as he glanced over to the wooded area that was nested a few yards from Hagrid's hut.

"What are you talking about Ron?" Harry asked, as he back tracked to where Ron stood stone still.

"That!"

Ron pointed to what seemed to be a pair of legs sticking out near the forest edge.

"It looks to be a person."

Harry begin to walk toward the mysterious figure already out of arm's length of Ron who was about to stop him. Mischief always seemed to find these two at any time. Of course, a normal night of harmless drinking turned into a cold, sobering reminder that at any time, life could throw a huge hurdle into your plans.

Harry pulled out his wand and, after whispering a small incantation, lit the tip to peer down at the body.

"Ron! It's a girl!"

How was this possible? No one could apparate onto school grounds without permission from the Headmaster. So, how was she able to appear here on her own? If she had help…who could have assisted her?

A deep gash was forming from her hairline and stopping just at the corner of her right eye. There were flakes of mulch and dirt that inhabited her hair and coated her clothes, which were tattered and looked to be almost burnt off. There were random blood spots on her clothing which made Ron and Harry wonder, was it her own or someone else's?

"I'll go get Hagrid."

Harry raced off to the dimly lit home before Ron could protest. He was about to start chasing after Harry before he felt a tug on his pants. Somehow, this beautiful stranger had found enough energy to reach out and grab ahold of him. Ron knelt down cautiously and watched her, in great pain, turn her head in his direction.

She gave a small, weak smile and choked out these words:

"My hero."

****

Dumbledore took a moment to mull over the details as Ron slumped back into his chair. That was the first time he verbally recalled the events of that night and it took an emotional toll on him. Ever since then, he had been plagued by dreams, all the same, all with_ her_. He didn't even know her name, just that she looked awfully familiar to someone he knows…but he just couldn't pinpoint who.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Dumbledore clearing his throat.

"Well my boy, that is all for now. You do not know how helpful you have been. You may return to class."

Ron nodded weakly and got up to leave but was overcome with curiosity.

"Has she a name Professor?"

Dumbledore felt a smile creep onto his face as he resumed his position behind his desk.

"She hasn't regained consciousness yet. We have healed her of her minor cuts and bruises. However, an infection could be forming in the wound on her face. We are doing all that we can to try and stop it."

Ron felt his heart sink a little at the news.

"You know, Mr. Weasley, talking can sometimes help in the healing process."

"I'm not sure what you mean Headmaster."

"A visit to the Hospital Ward maybe in order. I'm sure our guest would enjoy some company."


	3. Chapter 3

***I apologize for the long lapse in updates! Between work and school, I really did not have any time to devote to this story. No worries, I will try and write as much as I can this summer. I still want to complete this story! Also, I will be starting another story as well. It will be a wrestling fic! Look out for that soon!***

For a while there it seemed as if I were floating. A mass of bones, skin and organs hovering between reality and the dark unknown for which I was sure I was headed for.

It was quiet. It felt nice.

I don't know how long I was there in "the space between" (as I so affectionately called it). I didn't care to know. I had come to the conclusion I was stuck there forever.

I was fine with that.

Then I saw my mother.

I don't know how it happened exactly. It was almost as if she appeared before me from air. She was exactly as I remembered her, except for the massive blood stains that soaked the front of her clothes.

If she was dead, was I as well?

"Maribelle, honey. You have to go back."

I wanted to tell her no that I was fine right here in this "space between" with her. Before I could speak a word of opposition, she was gone.

In her place, I found myself staring at a headful of platinum blonde hair and a bewildered pale face.

Draco.

"You're…you're awake." He stammered out.

I ignored him, too busy taking in the huge ornate windows and lines of sterile beds that lay before me.

"Where am I?"

"Hogwarts…well…the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. I should go write an OWL to mother. She has been asking about you. She wanted to know right away when you regained conscience."

Before I could bombard him with more questions, he stood up abruptly and turned on his heels to leave.

In all the time I had been living at the Malfoy Manor, Draco had never spoken more than an incoherent grunt to me. For once, he had actually talked to me, like I was human and _not a mudblood._

"OH GOOD! You are awake! Maribelle is it? Well I am Madame Pomfrey! I have been looking after you, well, all of the staff has including the Headmaster Dumbledore. Oh he will be excited to know that you aren't dead! Oh my, was that too harsh? Well it's the truth I tell you, for a while there we didn't know if you would make it! I should tell Dumbledore, in fact, I'll tell him right now!"

I watched the old woman waddle out the room bewildered that a woman as ancient as her could still had enough energy to spew 1000 words per minute!

I stared up at the ceiling and watched the sunlight dance across the windows. My body ached with a dull pain that seemed to intensify with every breath I took. I held my arms and hands out in front of me to examine them. My skin was adorned with tiny cuts and bruises, forming little patterns here and there. The only evidence I had of my traumatic ordeal. I had no inkling as to what the day was, the time, or even the year if it had been that long. I remember leaving Malfoy Manor and staying with my half – sister Tonks. The sister I never knew I had.

I found myself lost in thought when out of the corner of my eye, a fiery hue of red emerged from behind the doorway.

A nervous and yet quite handsome boy about my age shuffled into the room, tugging at his school robes anxiously.

"I feel as if I know you from somewhere…" I whispered.

"I found you…well…Harry and I found you lying just outside of the Forbidden Forest. You were hurt pretty badly…"

I tried my best to remember anything from before, but it was like peering through murky waters. Everything was hazy, hard to decipher. All that stood out from my memories was the redhead that stood before me.

"I guess I should thank you. Had it not been for you, I would probably be dead."

A deep red had formed on the boy's face as a small, meek smile danced across his lips.

"I'm Ron."

"Maribelle."


End file.
